


Categorization

by evrybodysdarlin



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: M/M, Service Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 21:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evrybodysdarlin/pseuds/evrybodysdarlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the following prompt on pacificrimkink:</p><p>"Newt assumes that Hannibal is a total top (because he's literally half a foot taller than Newt and muscle-y and bossy) and expects to get plowed on the regular.</p><p>...except Hannibal absolutely loves bottoming.</p><p>Give me Newt so excited that he's practically tripping over his own feet at the prospect of topping Hannibal, and Hannibal just loving how eager and attentive Newt is."</p><p> </p><p>For what actually happens in this story--Newt likes Hannibal's brain. They go out for dim sum and deep conversation. Then the stereotype-busting sex happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Categorization

**Author's Note:**

> Content warnings--lots of cursing, a happy sex scene, and one mention of possible homophobia/homophobic violence that does not actually happen at all.

People sometimes asked Newt if he liked men or women. 

He didn't really categorize it that way.

If he had to categorize, he would think of himself as "brain-sexual" (except not, because that made him envision someone actually having intercourse with a giant brain, so maybe he needed better terminology).

He was attracted to intelligence. To him, arcane knowledge, sophisticated jargon, and insightful data analysis were as sexually provocative as thongs and nipple tassels. Once he realized that someone was smart, like really smart, smart enough for him to sit up and take notice, the attraction was there. It was really fucking there.

He wasn't a snob about it, either. There were lots of different kinds of intelligence. Pentecost's military knowledge and competence running the Shatterdome made Newt shift uncomfortably in his seat during staff meetings. The way Mako could draw up engineering plans led him to consider her the prettiest girl around. He'd put the moves on Hermann the first time he'd seen the mathematician write out one of his big, long equations. (That event may have explained the rough start they had to their relationship. It was too bad that such a sexy man was straight, and married, and kind of mean when someone he'd only known for a few hours asked him if he wanted to have sex up against the blackboard.)

So when Newt saw the amazing and careful way that Hannibal Chau preserved Kaiju parts, and then talked to him a bit about Kaiju anatomy, he saw a definite kind of intelligence there. His _favorite_ kind, actually, the kind of smarts that made someone able to discuss Kaiju all day and not get confused or bored and not call Newt a groupie, thank you very much. 

Besides the Kaiju angle, Hannibal ran a massive black market operation with an iron fist. That took brains _and_ a pair of brass balls (which was another trait that Newt admired).

On top of all that, Newt also had a bit of a thing for older men, specifically. The first man he'd ever slept with had been one of his biochemistry professors. The man was easily twice his age, wore a tweed waistcoat, and had called him "boy" while he'd held him down and cheerfully introduced him to the joys of gay sex.

Due to his history, then, when Hannibal called him "kid" or "little fella" and pushed him around, it was actually a bit more arousing than annoying. In Hannibal's presence, Newt could feel himself babbling, trying to show off, getting even more energetic than usual. Even sharing "classified" information because the chance to talk about super-cool Kaiju facts with someone who would actually appreciate it was just too tempting.

He'd been well on the way to a full-blown crush by the time Hannibal got swallowed by that giant newborn Otachi. (No one ever said that intelligence always came packaged with prudence or common sense.)

When he found out that Hannibal had actually survived, it was only because one of his henchmen came to pick up his gold shoe, which Newt had saved in a fit of morbid sentimentality. 

"The boss is alive. He wants his shoe back," the man said stoically, easily inviting himself into Newt's room. Newt was still hungover from the post-Breach closing celebration, and he stared blankly as the man grabbed the massive shoe and carefully put it into a bag.

"He's alive? How the hell did he survive?"

"Don't know. I don't ask questions. I'm just here for the shoe."

"Dude! Take me with you." Newt grabbed the man's arm, and the man stared at Newt with a lazily raised eyebrow. Newt remembered that anyone who worked for Hannibal could probably kill him bare-handed, so he released his arm quickly, but he didn't give up. "I want to see your boss. C'mon, do me a solid."

"He didn't give permission for that. He just said get the shoe."

"Call him and ask, man. I know you must have some way to reach him. I want to see him."

"He doesn't like people who ask questions."

"Come on, just do it. Help me out. I really think he'll be happy to see me. We had a connection."

"OK..." the man said reluctantly. "If this makes the boss angry, you'll regret it."

"I'm willing to take that risk. Call!"

The man obeyed, looking nervous the whole time, as though Hannibal could somehow punch him in the face via cell phone signal. But, to Newt's delight, once the man mentioned the name "Dr. Newton Geiszler," he waited a minute, then looked at Newt and nodded, giving a little thumbs up.

"Yes!" Newt whispered to himself. He was on the way to see awesome Kaiju parts and one intensely attractive mob boss. 

The man (who still hadn't told Newt his name, but Newt was scared to ask) drove Newt to the mysterious lair that he had seen last time. There was a lot less drama and mystery getting in this time--the dude just led them around to a back entrance with several padlocks, but no hidden doors or creepy guards.

Once inside, it only took Newt a moment to spot Hannibal across the room, towering over everyone around him. Newt literally felt his heart start to beat faster.

He wanted to race right over, but wasn't sure if he was supposed to wander around the den of iniquity, even if he'd been invited there. So he waited until Hannibal spotted him.

"Hey, kid. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Hannibal thundered as he approached. 

"I just wanted to see for myself how the fuck someone survived being eaten by a Kaiju." Newt patted Hannibal on the arm in what he hoped was a bro-like and non-creepy way.

"Well, y'see, we've been analyzing Baby's blood to find that out, and it seems that since she was underdeveloped, her blood was much less acidic. She was depending on Mama Otachi for her ammonia levels."

"So the baby was female?"

"I've got her ovaries in a jar to be studied." Hannibal looked pretty proud of himself, and Newt felt like he was looking at himself once he got going on a good K-Science ramble. He really liked this dude.

"Not to mention, I got myself out of there pretty fast," Hannibal continued. "That's why you should always carry a blade on you. Preferably two."

"Probably wise. I don't think my lab partner trusts me with sharp, pointy things, though. He always gives me funny looks when I'm holding a scalpel."

"I might be a little afraid of someone as fidgety as you holding something sharp, now that you mention it." Hannibal paused. "So, no other reason for this visit? Just saying hi?"

Newt tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He hadn't really planned things out this far. (Remember, the whole thing about intelligence and common sense not coexisting well?) He could go for the blunt approach, which was his usual thing, but he was hit with the sudden realization that asking out a tough dude like Hannibal could be taken as insulting if the big guy didn't like the inherent implication of gayness. 

Newt started stuttering out nonsense syllables like an idiot. "Buh...well...eh...I..."

"Spit it out, Newt."

Hannibal actually using his name (and his preferred nickname, no less!) gave him the courage to actually form words. "OK, so...you are super manly and strong and in no way effeminate...and I hope you don't take this the wrong way...or punch me...but I kind of wondered if you'd like to have dinner with me. My treat, because I just got a raise." Newt smiled, trying his best to look charming instead of terrified, and waited for Hannibal's response.

To his simultaneous relief and humiliation, Hannibal laughed. "Are you asking me out, kid?"

"Yes. No need to laugh! People go out with me. Sometimes. Geez, it was just a suggestion!"

"Relax. I'm not saying no. I was just...surprised. You got a thing for older men?"

"A big thing." Newt fluttered his eyelashes a little. "But mostly...I like your brain."

"Are you planning to dissect it in your lab? Drift with it?"

"Shut up, I'm trying to compliment you. I want to go to dinner with you and spend the whole time talking about Kaiju biology and how you managed to basically conquer the Hong Kong underworld with your cunning ways. Then I want to take you back home--wait, come to think of it, take you back here, because your place is probably way nicer--and I want to do lots of dirty things to each other. You in or out?"

"Oh, I'm in." Hannibal took a step closer, looming over Newt, and Newt had to tilt his head back to meet his line of sight. He could almost feel the warmth of Hannibal's body, and it was making him want to get even stupider and kiss the guy in front of all of his workers and that big Kaiju eye in a fish tank over there.

"You want to go now?" Newt asked instead, his voice coming out faint.

"Sure, I could eat. Let me leave word with my guys." Hannibal stepped away, and Newt silently mourned the distance. He really didn't mind being all up close to the big guy.

That thought made him imagine something a little uncomfortable, though. All big and dominating and in charge like that...Hannibal was probably a top. 

Newt sighed to himself. For some reason, probably just because he was kind of little and because he made no secret of his willingness to try just about any type of sex, he always ended up on the bottom when he got with guys. He didn't _mind_ it, being fucked was sexy, but sometimes it made him feel like something was missing. He liked to take all of his excess energy and his affections and his lust and lavish them all over his partner, making them _feel_ just how fucking bad he wanted them. He loved watching someone he admired and liked falling apart under his hands, because of him. He was craving that.

He realized that Hannibal had finished talking to his people and was coming back over to him, and he forced himself to focus on the positive. An experienced guy like Hannibal probably knew things, kinky things. And with big shoes like that, no way he wasn't hung. The thought made Newt squirm a little in a good way. By the time Hannibal reached his side again, he was definitely feeling this "dinner, then sex" plan again.

"You really paying for dinner?" Hannibal asked as he led the way to the door. "Where are you thinking we should go?"

"Dim sum? You can choose the place. Just keep in mind that my idea of a raise is your idea of pocket change."

"Got it. I know just the spot."

They ended up at a small, dimly lit restaurant with extremely well-dressed customers. Newt was glad that he was wearing his usual tie. Hannibal slipped the host a folded banknote as he asked for a private room.

"Hey! I thought this was my treat."

"Relax. You can pay for the food, but I can pay for the atmosphere. I don't like eating with a bunch of people looking at me. Besides, I thought this was a fucking date. Don't you want some privacy?"

"Good point." Newt had to admit, having their own little dining room as much cozier. 

They ended up sitting a a two-person table, across from each other. Hannibal was so tall that his knees bumped the table, then Newt's own legs as he got settled. He didn't apologize, just grinned at Newt like he was getting lucky to be playing accidental footsie.

"So, have you been mourning my alleged death? You sure came to see me quickly once you found out I wasn't Baby's dinner anymore."

"No, I haven't been mourning, because I was too busy saving the world like a badass, and then getting really drunk to celebrate. I swear, my head is still pounding." Newt smiled and bit his lip. "But I was pretty happy to hear that you're OK."

"Tell me, is this all an elaborate ploy to get Kaiju specimens? Because I would probably give you a few even without the possible sex."

"I do love my specimens, but no, I just wanted to go out with you. Pick your brain a little."

"You're going on about my brain again. Most people notice the money more than the brain, or, lucky for me, more than my face."

"No, see, 'cause it took the brain to get the money. It took your awesome, fucked up brain to see the Kaiju ransacking our world and build an empire from that. Your marketing and products are pretty much bullshit, but the way you study and preserve the parts, your knowledge...that's pretty legit."

"Hey, not all of the products are bullshit. I'll have you know, we've been seeing some promising advancements in medication using Kaiju hormones. The bone powder stuff doesn't work, but sex hormones may."

"Ooh, tell me more." Newt leaned across the table, and they were off.

They talked shop through drinks and a massive spread of dim sum, not even running out of topics by the time the waiter brought the bill.

"Ugh, this is the priciest dim sum I've had," Newt complained as he pulled out some money from his beat-up wallet. "Worth it for the company, though."

"You're such a damn flirt. I'm still not sure what to think of you, kid."

"Listen." Newt met his eyes (or where he thought his eyes were behind the dark glasses) and held his gaze. "What did you think on K-Day, the first time you saw one of those monsters break the surface of the ocean?"

Hannibal was quiet for a moment, but didn't look away. "I thought...fucking majestic."

"Exactly!" Newt slapped the table with his hand. "I mean, it's like, you hate them, you fear them, but you have to--"

"--respect them," Hannibal finished for him. "Respect something that can wreak that kind of destruction."

"Because you can't understand it until you do," Newt agreed. "And that is why I'm so into you. I know that your top priority is always going to be the money, and I don't really get that, but the way you see this fucked up world around us? I like that." They stared at each other for a moment. "So take me home, big boy."

Hannibal didn't say any more, just stood up from the table and held his hand out. Newt accepted it, pulling himself out of his chair, and didn't let go of it as they walked out of the restaurant. Such a big, warm hand, big enough to surround his own smaller one completely, with such surprisingly smooth skin. He looked down and saw the tattoos on Hannibal's fingers as they wrapped around his own. He felt a little frisson pass through him at the sight.

Hannibal had his own car and driver, of course, so they could sit together in the back seat, quiet in the dark as they headed back. Newt refused to relinquish Hannibal's hand even long enough to fasten his seatbelt; he just slid close to the bigger man instead. When Hannibal didn't pull away, Newt reached up and slipped his dark glasses off. "It's so 1980's to wear your sunglasses at night," he commented. His voice came out in a whisper.

"I don't like people seeing my eye. Sign of weakness. Plus, it's kinda gross."

"Sign of being a badass, you mean. I've seen grosser things." Newt leaned up and kissed his cheekbone, just below the scar. First kiss.

Hannibal let go of his hand and brought both hands up to cup Newt's face, pulling and tipping it up to reach closer to his own height as he brought his lips down. Their second kiss was much more thorough.

Their second kiss also lasted all the way back home. Newt was happy that he had mastered breathing through his nostrils, because he had no objections to kissing Hannibal for the rest of the forseeable future. The methodical way that the older man tasted his lips and suckled his tongue had him gasping and half-moaning into the kiss after just a few minutes. When he opened his mouth wider, Hannibal took the chance to nibble his lower lip, and Newt started wishing that the driver would drive faster so they could be in true privacy even sooner.

As Hannibal led them to the living quarters portion of his building, Newt felt a little nervousness along with his arousal. Despite the surprisingly sweet and sensual kissing, he was a little afraid of dealing with a big, rough guy like Hannibal in bed. He was somewhat concerned for his own ass.

They took things slow, though, continuing their soft kissing from the car as soon as they entered the bedroom. Hannibal's hands were gentle as he pulled them onto his enormous bed (which had purple silk sheets, why was Newt not surprised?). He laid them down side by side, and then Newt was completely wrapped up in big, warm arms as he continued having the breath kissed out of him.

Having their bodies pressed together like that naturally led things to speed up a little. Newt could feel himself getting hard, and he couldn't help squirming against Hannibal a bit, trying to get some friction. Hannibal answered by moaning approvingly and grabbing Newt's ass, guiding his motion and setting a rhythm as he rocked against the inside of Hannibal's thigh. Hannibal's tongue was in his mouth now, and the oxygen deprivation may or may not have been getting to him, because he could swear he was getting dizzy. 

Suddenly, Hannibal broke the kiss and stopped encouraging Newt's humping movements with his pressing hand. Newt whined in complaint. "Wha'? What's wrong?"

"I wanna ask you something," Hannibal said. Newt was satisfied to hear that Hannibal's voice was as husky and thick with arousal as his own. 

"Sure, go ahead." Newt's brain wasn't quite back online. Was it normal to stop the making out for question time?

"How do you feel about fucking me?"

"Like...me being on top?" Newt asked. 

"Like your dick in my ass, yeah."

Honestly, Newt hadn't even thought that Hannibal might consider that a possibility. The idea, though, made him instantly harden even further, until he thought he might burst his own zipper, and also made him gasp out loud like a dying animal as all of the mental images hit him. 

"You don't have to say yes, kid. It's just a thought." Hannibal seemed to have mistaken his intense excitement for horror.

"I'm saying yes! I'm saying yes! Oh, God, that's so hot. I want to do so many awesome things to you. I can't fucking wait. Are you sure about this? Mm, c'mere, kiss me again."

Hannibal laughed his creaky laugh and obeyed, plunging his tongue into Newt's mouth. "I didn't know if you'd be into the idea. Most guys expect me to top."

"Everyone expects me to bottom just because I'm little and cute. I hate stereotypes that interfere with good orgasms," Newt responded breathlessly. "C'mon, let's get your clothes off." 

He started unbuttoning Hannibal's shirt, careful not to pull off any buttons or tug the fabric, since it was surely expensive. He was pleased to see Hannibal's bare skin as soon as he opened the buttons, and he leaned down and kissed from Hannibal's throat down to his breastbone, flicking his tongue out against the warm skin of his chest. He pushed Hannibal's shirt and jacket off his arms in one motion, and could feel himself starting to purr like a cat as he looked. He yanked off his own tie carelessly and hastily opened his own shirt so they could touch skin-to-skin. It was another frisson moment, and they both groaned out loud at the feeling.

"You're so sexy," Newt whispered as he rubbed his cheek against Hannibal's broad chest. He slid down his body, keeping contact all the way, and gently kissed the (enormous) bulge that was currently stretching the front of Hannibal's dress pants. He kissed and nuzzled through the fabric for a little while, until Hannibal himself made an uncharacteristically needy whine.

"You fucking tease," he whispered, arching his back to press his hips closer to Newt's open mouth.

"I'm just taking my time," Newt retorted, but he had a little mercy and slowly lowered Hannibal's zipper. Ooh, silk boxers. Newt went back to the nuzzling and licking, enjoying the slippery feeling and Hannibal's pleased growls, but then he finally slid the pants and underwear down to free Hannibal's erection.

"I hope you don't expect me to fit all of this into my mouth," Newt commented, but even as he spoke, he was leaning down to try to do his best at just that. He started easy, though, pressing a little kiss to the crown and making Hannibal hiss. Then he lapped at the slit with the tip of his tongue, tasting the salty precome daintily. He took the head into his mouth and felt a little more of the warm liquid leak onto his tongue. He could feel Hannibal growing thicker between his lips, harder from his touch. 

Newt slid his mouth down a little further, still being cautious, and was rewarded with another deep moan. He canted his eyes up so he could see Hannibal's face. Hannibal's eyes were lidded, but open, and he was looking down, watching Newt take his cock. His face was the relaxed pleasure face of someone getting a massage or tasting a rich dessert, with a little addition of desperation that made Newt's cock twitch as he sensed it.

Newt sucked hard on the thick shaft in his mouth while he used his tongue to lap against the head. Hannibal reached down and tangled his thick fingers into Newt's hair, holding on, but not pushing. His fingers twitched rhythmically with each stroke of Newt's tongue, like the beat was flowing through both of them.

After a few minutes, Newt pulled off to speak, missing the feel of the cock in his mouth as soon as he was free, but needing to get out his next words. "Do you have lube?"

Hannibal reached into his bedside table and produced a bottle, which he silently handed over to Newt.

"Is it OK if I get you ready now?" Newt started slipping off his own clothes as he asked, because he was a sweaty, horny mess and was pretty sure that his zipper teeth were now imprinted on his dick.

"Be my guest." Hannibal slipped his own pants all the way off, baring his thick, luxurious body, and Newt couldn't help but pounce on top of him. His bare feet were brushing Hannibal's shins, their thighs were slipping against each other, and, best of all, their hard cocks were pressed together as he clung to Hannibal's shoulders and gave him another enthusiastic kiss.

"I'm obsessed with you," Newt happily admitted against Hannibal's open mouth. Before the big guy could respond, Newt got back to work. He carefully took Hannibal's cock between his lips again even as he popped open the bottle of lube and coated his fingers. 

He wanted to go slow, make sure that it was good, so he didn't even slide a finger in at first. He just settled himself between Hannibal's legs, pushing them gently apart to make room for himself, and began rubbing softly at his opening while he continued sucking on his swollen cock. He rubbed slow circles, gentle and massaging, opening him up, until Hannibal was squirming, lifting his hips to chase after the touches a little. Newt finally slipped the first finger in.

"Mmm," Hannibal moaned at the feeling.

"You like that, baby?" Newt slid off to ask. He wasn't trying to do porn dirty talk. He just wanted to make sure.

"Amazing. Gimme another one, c'mon, you know I won't break."

"I'm trying to be good to you," Newt grumbled, but then he obeyed. Hannibal easily opened around the second finger as well. He rocked his hips down, trying to get more. Newt could feel his own cock twitching, aching, already dripping, but he was determined to prepare Hannibal a little better before they began.

"You are being good," Hannibal sighed as Newt pressed his fingers in and out. "Fuck, so good."

"You want another?"

"Yes. Don't stop fucking me." Hannibal's voice had a little hitch in it that disarmed Newt's higher brain functions, and he slipped the third finger in much faster than he meant to. Hannibal's only response was a contented growl. When Newt took his dick into his mouth again while he continued fucking his fingers in and out, Hannibal shook all over, like an electric current had passed through him.

"I can't wait to be inside you," Newt gasped.

"Who asked you to wait?" Hannibal scrambled in the beside drawer again, uncharacteristically clumsy, and pulled out a condom. He flung it onto the sheets beside them.

Newt's self control finally broke. He grabbed the condom, slipping it on as quickly as he could with his shaking fingers and slicking himelf up with lube. He paused as he leaned over Hannibal, though, coming back to himself. He looked up into the older man's eyes, checking to be sure, but all he saw was fondness and dazed lust that matched his own, so he took a deep breath and let himself plunge inside.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Hannibal swore. It sounded like a positive "Oh, fuck," though, so Newt cautiously thrust his hips once more.

"Yes," Hannibal gasped. "Don't stop." He reached up and grabbed Newt's ass, pulling him further into his body, sinking his big fingers into the flesh to press Newt closer.

Newt felt his eyes rolling back into his head. It had been a long time since he'd been with someone, and besides that, he was absolutely sure that he'd never felt such hot, tight, slick warmth before. He didn't know how he wasn't coming already.

"Deeper, please, fuck, deeper."

The fact that he was fucking Hannibal Chau so well that he'd just made the gangster say "please" boosted his ego and libido so much that he started moving in earnest, thrusting in and out steadily, pressing as deep as he could so that he could watch Hannibal's eyes fall closed and his body twitch each time he brushed that spot inside him.

"You're so amazing," Newt babbled as his hips pistoned. He felt hot pleasure shooting up his spine, down into his toes, through his whole body. "You feel so good."

"Make me come." Hannibal was spreading his legs wider, starting to jerk himself off, and the words and the sight in front of him made Newt let out a little sob of frustrated arousal. He knocked Hannibal's hand aside, stroking his cock for him even as he held himself up with his other arm, keeping up the frantic motion of his hips because he felt like he would die if he lost even a moment of that tight, hot friction. Plus, he wanted to see it, wanted to watch Hannibal come, wanted to watch him fall apart. He was drunk on it.

"I'll make you come, all you want, over and over," he gasped. "Please, c'mon, come for me, let me see."

Hannibal reached up and cupped Newt's face in his fingers, surprisingly gentle, fingertips sliding into his hair. They were looking into each other's eyes. Newt felt the moment Hannibal's orgasm started from the way his whole body tensed up, clenching around Newt's cock, even his fingers knotting tight into his hair, nails scratching his scalp. He watched the come spurt from Hannibal's cock, steady pulses all over his own stomach and Newt's heaving chest as he leaned over him. 

The sight and the pressure around his cock were too much to take, and Newt fell over the edge, too, shaking and almost screaming, legs tensing and twitching as he came deep inside Hannibal's body.

His orgasm drained the frantic energy from him, and he felt himself starting to double over and collapse. Hannibal reached down and caught him under the arms, pulling him up his body. He moaned as his dick slipped out, not ready to give up the feeling, but it was almost worth it for the afterglow sensation that settled over him as Hannibal moved him like a doll into cuddling position, laying his head onto Hannibal's broad shoulder and feeling himself wrapped up in warm arms. He lazily tilted his head back and pressed a kiss under Hannibal's jaw.

"So, you'll make me come over and over, huh?" Hannibal murmured into Newt's hair. "That's some pretty big talk, kid. I think you may need more than one night for that."

"I could stay for the weekend. Or the week. Or however long." Newt cringed at his own words. "Sorry. I'm a little intense."

"I can handle intense. Especially the kind of intense that just happened in here."

Newt smirked. "I'm pretty good, huh? I knew it." He was having a little trouble keeping his eyes open.

"Don't get cocky, baby." He felt Hannibal's hands slip the condom off of him, wipe him down a little with a tissue that he'd gotten somewhere. "Get your rest. You're fucking me again in the morning."

"Like I said, I love your brain," Newt slurred. He wasn't sure if the words were actually coming out in the right order. Or at all.

"Likewise. Sleep."

He nuzzled into Hannibal's bicep (which made a surprisingly good pillow) and obeyed, falling seamlessly into the warm dark.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry if this went a bit mushy. I'm just a sucker for romance, no matter what the pairing, and I tried to make it a kind of alternate character angle.
> 
> Alternate tags or titles for this fic--"Hannibal Wears His Sunglasses at Night", "Brain-Sexual", "Pricy Dim Sum", "Saving the World and Getting Really Drunk"


End file.
